


Leid

by jewelianna88



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelianna88/pseuds/jewelianna88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long plane ride to Hawaii turns more interesting than Chris anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leid

“Hey, can you see out the window? Is it still snowing?” Justin leaned across Chris to press his face to the glass. Chris ruthlessly shoved him back into this own seat. He slammed shut the tiny airplane window screen, blocking out the blinking lights on the wing and the distant stars.

“How come you get the window seat when you don’t even want to look outside?” Justin pouted, pretty pink lip stuck out petulantly in disappointment. Chris didn’t budge. He’d had years to steel himself against Justin’s arsenal of persuasive expressions. He was completely immune to all sad-eyes and pouty lips.

They’d been sitting on the tarmac in Stockholm for two hours already, waiting for the snow to let up so they could take off. JC, who was sitting up front with the rest of their group, had already been back to tell them they were going to miss the connection in New York, and probably San Francisco too. Whoever thought that flying from Sweden to Hawaii in January without at least a two-day window for weather delays was a fucking moron.

Since he worked for that moron, Chris couldn’t say his IQ was much better.

JC, Lance, and Joey were stuck in the middle of the plane about twenty rows in front of them. More miserable location, but Justin and Chris had the last row, with the seats that didn’t recline. The stewardesses were gossiping in Swedish behind the curtain. Chris thought he heard them say something about sleep and possible potatoes. He hadn’t learned much of the language during their stay.

They were all exhausted, mind and body. This last leg of their European tour had been very, very long.

“Hey, do you think we’ll have time to get food when we get to New York? I’m so craving, like, everything sold at McDonalds. And pizza- like, Sbarro’s, that really floppy kind. And American Coke.” Justin babbled on next to Chris, rifling through his carry-on bag. He’d already pulled everything out and stuffed it back in again about twenty times.

“Can you just shut up for like, five minutes?” Chris asked. His stomach growled at the thought of food- greasy fast food, salty and delicious. They’d had some weird rolls for breakfast, and some kind of soup stuff for lunch from the Stockholm airport’s cafeteria line. He hadn’t really liked either, and knew that whatever was served on the plane wasn’t likely to be much better.

Justin grabbed a couple of things from his bag and stuffed it back under the seat in front of him. “If you play cards with me, I’ll give you a present.”

“Like what, your dirty socks?” That was what was in Chris’s carry-on, anyway. Socks and underwear, because he never wanted to be without that or risk it falling into the hands of a fan. It wasn’t his fault that it had been two weeks since they’d had time for doing more than washing out their laundry in the hotel room’s sink.

Justin waved a bag of M&Ms in front of Chris. His mouth watered.

“Rummy?” Justin unlatched the tray on the seatback in front of him and sat back as it fell with a clatter. Chris grabbed the bag as Justin began to deal.

They played three rounds before the announcement was made that they would be taking off. Tray tables were stowed, stewardesses giving safety lectures were mocked, and Chris gripped the armrests as the plane began to taxi.

Justin leaned over him to see out the window as the jets roared to life. Chris concentrated on breathing. He hated take-offs, and Justin being all in his space with his hands in inappropriate places was not helping. The nose of the plane lifted into the air and Chris felt his stomach drop as gravity tried to hold on. Into the snow, with all of the bumps that ice and wind could provide as they ascended.

They cleared the clouds and there was nothing but stars above them.

“Adjö så länge,” Justin waved, finally going back to his own seat. He shuffled the cards, waiting for the captain to give them permission to put the trays down again.

Good-bye, indeed, Chris thought. He loosened his seatbelt and sighed with relief.

**

Reaching for a pillow and blanket, Chris leaned against the wall and tried to sleep. He had a general rule that one should never sleep in public lest they become the brunt of many, many pranks. This time, though, he was in the back of the plane with only Justin to worry about. Justin was his #2, his partner in crime. Justin wouldn’t dare to cross him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Justin asked, poking Chris. “Don’t sleep. Entertain me.”

“Entertain yourself, fucker. Do some homework or something.” Chris needed to sleep. He hadn’t really slept since some time in Spain. They’re last interview in Sweden had been hell, so bad that Lou himself had made the call and ripped them a new collective asshole via speakerphone. It had been a long, painful process that Chris did not want to repeat any time soon. Hence, sleep.

“I don’t want to do homework. I’ve been reading Hemingway, for like, eons, and it’s boring.” Justin pouted, tugging on the blanket. Chris fought back equally hard- if there was one thing he had experience with, it was hogging covers.

Justin was persistent, though. “They’re gonna start serving food in a minute. If you miss food, you’re gonna be hungry somewhere over the Atlantic.”

Damn kid. “Fine. But see if you can charm the stewardess into giving me a Coke.” Chris stuffed the blanket down beside him, the pillow behind his back. He needed caffeine if he wasn’t going to be able to sleep.

Justin twisted around in his seat with his smile in full gear. Easy access to those who controlled food and beverage was one of the advantages of a seat at the back of the plane. Cola in hand, Justin turned back to him. He popped the top as the fasten seatbelt sign blinked off. Justin flipped down the tray table. JC bolted back into the restroom from his seat mid-plane. Chris chugged half the soda and burped. On the TV screen in front of him, the progress of the plane dotted across the screen. They’d barely cleared Norway.

It was going to be a long flight.

**

Despite the caffeine, Chris fell asleep as meals began to be served at the front of the plane, which was practically in another zip code. When he woke, Justin was pulling down his tray table so the stewardess could leave him some dinner.

“What’s this?” he yawned loudly and stretched as much as possible.

“Some sort of chicken.” Justin doused his hands in instant sanitizer, then dove in, ripping off cellophane and devouring the questionable chicken. Chris poked his with a plastic fork and sniffed before taking a bite. It wasn’t bad, sort of creamy and bland.

“They said they’re starting the movies soon,” Justin said, buttering his roll liberally. He took a huge bite and chewed loudly. Chris watched, still half asleep and oddly fascinated at how much Justin could fit into his mouth. “Some Swedish thing, but the flight attendant promised subtitles.”

Subtitles were good, and at least they had the little TVs on the back of the seats. Plus, Justin had calmed down a lot since they got in the air, which made being stuck between him and a wall at least bearable.

Revived after the nap and food, Chris reached for his bag under the seat in front of him for his bag. Headphones for the movie, and straight on to Hawaii. He couldn’t wait. They were going to meet the Pro-Bowlers. ALL of the Pro-Bowlers. Even Leon Searcy from the Steelers. It was going to be the greatest weekend of his life.

If they ever got there.

“Quit poking me,” Justin complained as Chris tried to get his bag. Chris leaned back, flipped him the bird, and tried to hook the strap of his backpack with his foot. Damn thing was stuck on something.

“Here, let me.” Justin leaned over, reaching down between Chris’s legs. Chris sat back, raising his eyebrows, wishing he had Joey’s video camera. Of course, Justin would bend over and stick his head in Chris’s lap when no one was around to see it.

Chris’s mind went to very bad places. Not as bad as they’d been a few months ago before Justin turned 18, but still very shady and shadowy places.

Justin emerged with Chris’s bag in hand, and Chris pulled out his headphones. The actors in the movie were making out fiercely and he had a feeling things were going to get good.

Music swelled, there was a roll of thunder as the scene in the film moved into a cabin, and Chris, always completely distracted by anything on TV, forgot all about the empty tray of chicken.

They really made steamy scenes in foreign movies. And hey, look, naked boobs. Those were always an unexpected bonus on airplanes.

Beside him, Justin was shifting back and forth, being generally squirmy and annoying. Chris pulled down his headphones around his neck and shot Justin a look of death. “Quit it. Just sit fucking still.”

“Right. Sure.” Justin didn’t even poke him, so Chris knew something was wrong. He eyed Justin more suspiciously. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just, um. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He shoved his empty dinner tray onto Chris’s tray table and bolted back. The bathroom was right behind their seats, and Chris could hear the sigh of relief as Justin locked the door.

“Everyone’s a freak except me,” he muttered, putting the headphones back on his ears. Justin’s weirdness had made him miss a good part of the stripping. There were now naked people in the movie. He strained up to see if anyone else was watching that channel. Most of the screens had some action looking movie on them.

He leaned back and enjoyed the rest of the sex scene, impressed that there was quite a bit nakedness in it. He had no idea what the plot of the movie was, but it was almost better this way. Like porn.

Justin came back after the movie had gotten boring again, and Chris focused on him. He slid into the seat with the casual grace usually reserved for stage, stretching, cricking his neck before reaching for his headphones.

“What?” he asked, all innocent. Chris knew better.

“You just jerked off in the bathroom, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off,” Justin retorted. He didn’t deny it.

“You fucker.” Chris was mostly glad that he was past the days of springing up at every little boob on a TV screen. He was immensely glad that Justin wasn’t, because it meant an endless opportunity to tease and harass his friend. “I can’t believe that you’re so horny you can’t even make it through a six hour flight.“

“Eight hour.” Justin corrected grudgingly.

“Fine, eight hour. But seriously, you need to get laid when we get to Hawaii. Like, immediately. First hula girl you see. You know when you get off the plane, and they give you the flowers? The leis. Get leid.” He laughed at the hilarity of the play on words. It would never get old.

“That wasn’t funny the first twenty times you said it. And why don’t you stop watching that Swedish sex movie! Watch Die Hard like the rest of us.”

“It’s straight sex,” Chris felt the need to point out, because they’d all had to sit through Justin (and his mother!) explaining that Justin tended toward homosexuality, and they should be comfortable around him and not try to buy him hookers in Amsterdam anymore. Which didn’t have the effect Lynn had hoped, as noted by the very happy rentboy they’d found in the Red Light district.

Chris enjoyed nudity, whatever the form. He was very open-minded like that. But that was beside the point, and Justin didn’t seem put off by the naked lady in Chris’s movie.

So Justin was horny and stuck on an airplane. The flight was suddenly a lot more interesting.

**

There was no more sex in the movie, which foiled Chris’s magnificent plan. He got up to wander when it was over, heading up to where JC, Joey, and Lance were sitting. Lance was out cold, his eyes doing that eerie not-quite-closed thing. JC was playing with Joey’s GameBoy. Joey was watching something on the TV.

“Hey.” Chris leaned over the seat and pressed the reset button on JC’s game, just to fuck with him. He still owed him for the time JC had tripped over the chord and unplugged his PlayStation when his NFL team was in the Superbowl. “What’s up?”

“We are.” JC grinned up at him, not even annoyed that his game was gone. “Miles up, and over a very dark and cold ocean.”

Chris gulped. The sneaky revenge. “Thanks. Really.”

“Never a problem. How’s life in the back with J?”

“Never better. We got extra Cokes,” Chris had to add. Joey glanced up from his screen at that.

“Did you get any of those mini drinks? I’m outta cash and they’re charging for da booze.”

Chris just smiled, letting them think he was good and drunk. “J’s getting horny again.”

JC rolled his eyes. “Save the jokes about getting him laid. Seriously, Chris. Just let him find a nice college boy or something.” He turned sideways in the seat, trying not to wake Lance. “This one too.”

Ah, Lance, the closeted little tyke. He thought about JC’s idea, and it took a turn to bad very, very quickly. “You’re not suggesting we hook them up together.”

The look on JC’s face was worth the mental image of Lance and Justin having sex. “I think I need brain bleach,” JC said.

Pleased to be leaving JC with that image, since it was now in Chris’s head too, he grinned. “Okay. I’m gonna go back, make sure J hasn’t take over my seat or anything. Get some more freebies.”

Chris wandered back slowly, checking out what everyone else was doing. The plane was mostly dark, with just a few reading lights and the little floor lights guiding the way. Most of the people on board were asleep.

He smiled at a girl who clearly recognized with him as he walked by. She very deliberately did not scream, but waved at him and poked her mother sitting beside her, sound asleep. He mom didn’t even stir. The girl looked about 16 and more awake than anyone else on the plane.

“Hi,” he said, leaning on the seat back in front of her. Might as well play good celebrity for a while. “Going to New York?”

“New Jersey. My dad lives there. My mom travels for work and I go with her a lot. You’re Chris. From *Nsync. Can you sign this?” She handed him a magazine with the kids from Dawson’s Creek on the cover.

Chris signed away, and gave the girl his best smile. “Hey, are you done reading that?” He pointed to her Cosmo magazine tucked in the seat back. “My friend is bored.”

“Oh, sure.” She passed him the magazine. “My friends are never gonna believe this.”

“Just tell them I’m reading it for the articles.” Chris waited for her to get it, but the old line about Playboy didn’t sink in. Children. “Thanks.”

He lapped the plane once before heading to his seat. Justin had, in fact, taken over most of his space, so Chris mercilessly sat on his legs until he whined and moved them back where they belonged.

“Look, I got a magazine. Quiz time. What’s your sexual animal style?”

“I’m not taking your stupid quiz.” Justin pouted and reached for his homework.

Chris was having none of that. “Here. Question one. When a guy is coming on to you, do you a) pounce back?; B) shy away?; or c) lure him into a dark corner?”

“I’m not doing this,” Justin said, resolutely taking down his tray table and setting up his laptop to type.

“I’m going to say you pounce. I’ve seen you. Well, with girls in clubs, and it’s only dancing, but I’ll assume it carries over. Me, now I’m a dark corner kind of guy. At least when it comes to the nekkid parts.”

Justin began singing under his breath. “I get knocked down, but I get up again, you’re never gonna keep me down.”

It took Chris a minute to register what Justin was singing before he laughed loudly, earning him a dirty look from the half-asleep guy across the aisle. “Chumbawumba? That is weak. Pathetic even. My God, you call yourself a professional musician.” Chris shook his head in mock disgust and hoped Justin didn’t notice his foot was tapping. “And now that song’s gonna be in my head for the next fucking millennium, thank you very much.”

“I’m not listening to you. I’m working. I’ve got a paper to write. Apparently, performing at the ProBowl isn’t enough to do in one weekend. I’ve got to explain three major themes of a book that I didn’t even read.”

“Want me to write it?” Chris asked. It was an old offer, and he wouldn’t have made it if he thought Justin would accept.

“No.”

“Then more quiz time.” With glee, Chris turned the page. “In the bedroom, your sensitive areas tend to be a) your neck?; B) your feet?; or c) your hands?”

“How about d) my dick?” Justin scoffed.

Chris considered this a wise choice and wrote it in, giving it double points.

“Okay. Next question. Your idea of erotic foreplay involves a) food; b) massage; or c) dancing?”

“Chris, this is really dumb.”

But Chris watched him think about it. He had his thinking face on, and Chris would bet their annual paycheck that Justin’s mind wasn’t on Hemingway.

“Answer the question. The sooner you answer, the sooner I’ll leave you alone.” It was the best argument, one that always got what he wanted. Chris had learned at a young age that he wasn’t big, and he wasn’t intimidating. He needed his wits, and thank God, he’d gotten in the right line at the DNA store that day.

“Fine. Dancing.” Justin closed the computer top and looked at Chris. Pissy was the best word for that face, and yet still, Chris figured that, slapped on a magazine, it’d sell millions.

“Me too. Remember that club in Cologne? Ten minutes after we got there, I was off in the back room with some guy. Don’t remember his name, but he had these gorgeous eyes. Looked up at me the whole time. You know.” Chris relaxed into a grin with the memory. That had been a fucking fantastic night.

“Right.” Justin gulped and shifted in his seat. “Right, yeah. I remember that. You danced with him the whole night.”

“And you were with a million different guys that night. And girls. You had everyone.” His own king of the dance floor.

“Not like that though. It mean, it was just dancing.”

Chris had seen Justin dancing more times than he could remember. Justin never ‘just danced.’ It was a full-body-and-soul experience. An event. And it was sexual.

An idea was forming in Chris’s head. After all, they had a lot of hours left on the plane, and anything that happened in the next 36 hours could easily be blamed on sleep deprivation and anti-airsickness pills.

“You mean that whole night, you never hooked up? Never let a guy touch you, grope at you while you were on the dance floor?”

Justin flushed, his ears a pretty pink. “Sex, is. It’s supposed to mean something, you know? Those random hookups just aren’t worth it in the morning.”

“Fair enough.” Chris didn’t think that it was going to be long until Justin sex for the sake of sex. He hoped he could be there to watch. “Next question. Your boyfriend wants to have sex in an unusual location. You choose a) underwater; b) in a cave; or c) in an airplane.”

He sent a silent prayer thanking God for the editors of Cosmo.

“Um.” Justin paused, fiddling with the latch button for his computer. “I don’t really know. What if you have two answers that sound good?”

“I think you have to pick one.” Chris dropped the magazine and turned. “I think you have to pick the one that is most likely to happen. You know, like, you’re in a situation where no one can see you and you’re feeling a little risky.”

“Chris.” Just his name, but Chris knew that Justin understood where he was going with this. His lip quivered a little bit, and Chris wanted to kiss it. Too much, too obvious. Instead he tossed Justin a blanket.

“You’ve gotta be quiet,” he promised, and then his hands were going for it, under the tray table. They dove under the blanket and slid beneath the waistband of Justin’s track pants. Elastic and wonderful, they stretched easily and Chris had his hand on Calvin Klein cotton with Justin’s hot hot dick underneath.

Justin’s eyes fluttered, all long lashes on creamy cheekbones. The blue beneath peeked out shyly, betraying the confident, sexy moan that escaped his mouth. Chris used his free hand to twist a tendril of blonde curl back behind Justin’s ear. He could feel his pulse racing at his neck, the soft stubble of a boy who still didn’t need to shave every day rough on his knuckles.

His own cock throbbed against the waistband of his jeans, but Chris ignored it. This was fantasy come true time. He didn’t want to mess it up be getting too excited and having the stewardess investigate what was going on in their dark little corner of the plane.

Justin sighed as Chris squeezed. Leaning close, Chris whispered in his ear “quiet.” They couldn’t get caught. It was stupid. JC was going to kill him if he ever found out, in one of the really scary ways that he was always threatening. Chris didn’t care. Justin’s cock was hard in his boxers, and Chris was on a mission.

“Are you a member yet?” he asked as softly as he could, mouth close to Justin’s ear. His breath on Justin’s neck made Justin shiver delightedly.

“Member of what?”

“The Mile-High Club.” Chris glanced out into the aisle, noting that it was all still quiet. “Ever done it on a plane?”

“Um, no. I mean, unless the bathroom counts. I’ve done that before.” He smiled at that, head turning so he was only inches from Chris. It would be so easy to kiss him there.

Someone walked down the aisle from the front of the plane. Chris leaned back but kept his hand on Justin’s dick, stroking him through his underwear. The guy didn’t even glance their way, just hunkered into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

“He didn’t even notice,” Justin said, awed. His body had gone tense. Chris tried to relax him again, hand moving up and down slowly, until Justin’s hand wasn’t gripping the armrest white-knuckled any longer. He took that as a sign to do more and let skin touch skin, pulling Justin’s cock out of his underwear. Palming it, squeezing it, Chris saw Justin’s mouth fall open at the motions.

“Not gonna last long like that,” Justin murmured, and despite his inexperience, he was holding it together pretty well. Chris watched him carefully, watched the color creep up his neck, the bead of sweat the formed on his temple. He wanted, desperate to taste that, to lick its route down Justin’s cheek as his hand kept up a steady rhythm.

The toilet flushed, the water ran, and the bathroom door opened. Chris kept stroking, eyes straight ahead as the other man went back to his seat without a glance in their direction. As soon as he was past them, Chris squeezed tighter and doubled his speed. Justin arched like a bow and came in a sticky mess all over Chris’s palm. As he came, Justin turned his head into his shoulder and bit his shirt, teeth gritted, trying so very hard not to make any noise. Years on the bus had taught them all the art of a quiet orgasm. It didn’t make it any less hot to actually see Justin go over the edge like that, to have been a part of it.

Chris waited until Justin’s tremors had stopped before climbing over him and heading to the tiny restroom to wipe his hand and jerk off in the toilet. He ignored the irony of committing the same act he’d chastised Justin for earlier, starting the whole thing. Instead, he gasped as he came with the image of Justin in his mind.

Justin was smirking when Chris came back out, passing a wet towel from his fist to Justin’s as discretely as a street corner coke dealer. Justin cleaned up the best he could. At least he was wearing black.

“You whacked off, didn’t you?” Justin asked. Chris could hear the annoyance. He liked that annoyance.

“For now. Didn’t want you getting over-enthusiastic. Plus, you know. You had this thing about sex meaning something.”

“Um, hello. I said not with strangers. You’re like, the complete opposite of that. This?” He made a crude jerk off gesture, “with you? Is good. Really, really good.”

“Really,” Chris echoed, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. ‘Sex, yay,’ was about as much as his brain could comprehend just then. “So, just hands?”

Justin stared at his own fingers as they flexed and fisted. Chris imagined them doing bad, naughty things all over his body and wondered how he was ever going to think sex with another person would be good again.

“Hands are a good start. Especially on a plane. And nothing gets penetrated until there’s a formal date.”

Chris cringed. God, the kid was so young. So innocent. So exactly what he wanted. Still, though. There were limits. “You did not just say penetrated.”

“Chris.” Somehow, the situations had reversed and Justin was the mature one. The expression on his face was priceless, like every sex-ed teacher’s dream student come to life. Chris did not like that. He needed to be back in control of this situation.

“Airport. Pizza. The floppy kind. Does that count?”

Justin seemed to consider this. Chris couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he actually seemed to be weighing the pros and cons. “Is there pepperoni?”

“I’ll even buy breadsticks,” he promised. “And soda. The good American kind.”

Justin’s smile was as wide as the airplane, and bright as the moon. “Deal. So, like, we’re gonna do this again on the next flight?”

“New York to San Francisco, yup. And there to Honolulu. And then a lot in Hawaii. You know, cause you really have got to get leid.”

Justin groaned. “If I promise to have sex with you, will you never tell that joke again?”

“You’re not that good, Timberlake.” Chris had an image of the two of them in the bathroom of a 747, all twisting and squished together. “But I’ll think about it.”

Like he could get his mind to go anywhere else.

END


End file.
